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Deor



                 
      Welund him be wurman wræces cunnade,
anhydig eorlearfoþa dreag,
hæfde him to gesiþþesorge ond longaþ,
wintercealde wræce;wean oft onfond,
siþþan hine Niðhad onnede legde,
swoncre seonobendeon syllan monn.
Þæs ofereode,þisses swa mæg!


      Weland knew the agony of exile.
That indomitable smith was wracked by grief.
He endured countless troubles:
sorrows were his only companions
in his frozen island dungeon
after Nithad had fettered him,
many strong-but-supple sinew-bonds
binding the better man.
That passed away; this also may.
     

     
      Beadohilde ne wæshyre broþra deaþ
on sefan swa sarswa hyre sylfre þing,
þæt heo gearoliceongieten hæfde
þæt heo eacen wæs;æfre ne meahte
þriste geþencan,hu ymb þæt sceolde.
Þæs ofereode,þisses swa mæg!
      Beadohild mourned her brothers' deaths
but even more, her own sad state
once she discovered herself with child.
She predicted nothing good could come of it.
That passed away; this also may.

Deor ll 1 to 13 (from the Exeter Book)









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